The photograph shook Claire to her core. Her father, standing alongside Robert Calloway, the man who had upended her life. His familiar face—one she hadn’t seen in over a decade—stared back at her, frozen in time. The edges of the photo were worn, suggesting it wasn’t new, but its implications were earth-shattering.
John stood by her side, his eyes locked on the image. He didn’t need to say anything for Claire to feel his concern, but the tension between them was palpable.
“What does this mean?” Claire whispered, her voice trembling as she stared at the photograph.
“It means Robert’s playing a bigger game than we thought,” John replied, his tone grim. “And it looks like your father was part of it.”
Claire sank into the couch, the photograph still clutched in her hands. Her mind raced,
